As She Likes It: The Sequel to Taming of a Shrew
by KricketWilliams
Summary: A short time after Dave and Erin begin dating, some parts of the "Ice Queen" remain. How long will it take for Rossi to make her melt? Written for Ilovetvalot. As usual, I don't own a thing.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Written for Tracia (Ilovetvalot), because she asked for a continuation of this story...Never thought in a million years I could write this, but I did...This pairing is starting to grow on me!..._

**Chapter One**

It had been three weeks and four days since David Rossi had kissed her and declared his feelings for her in her office, something she had never expected.

Hell had been far more likely to freeze over.

Nevertheless, she was glowingly happy. She practically _skipped_ into work every day. No one could doubt that she was in love. David was just as bad; he sang a few bars of Italian love songs into her voice mail and beamed with pleasure.

Most people were very happy for her and for David. However, there had been a few unkind and perverted comments: cuddling up to the boss, sleeping with the enemy...some snide people had actually asked if she was _getting any_.

Not to her face, of course.

People _never_ walked up to Section Chief Erin Strauss and said things like that to her face. She was much lighter and less stringent now than she used to be, but she was still the would say that to her boyfriend—the reason FBI fraternization rules existed in the first place—but not her. He'd laugh about it, and probably answer so smoothly, the person wouldn't know what hit them.

_Her___ boyfriend___, _she thought, and pulled a face. Lord, she disliked referring to David that way. They were far too mature for boyfriend/girlfriend status, far more worldly and jaded. Saying that he was her boyfriend made it sound like she was fifteen and with the varsity team captain, instead of a professional woman and a professional man in a relationship. However, she had to face facts: that's what they were—boyfriend and girlfriend. She couldn't say lover, because in answer to that question that was being whispered with snickers and jeers was simple.

She wasn't __getting any__yet.

It wasn't that they weren't hot for each other—their kisses were off the Scoville chart when it came to heat—but they hadn't taken a further step. There were lots of reasons for it.

Perhaps it was because they hadn't seen each other that much. Even though it had been three weeks, David hadn't been in town; he'd been on cases. When he was in town, he spent a great majority of his time with her. He wined and dined her unlike she'd ever been before. The maitre'd's at great restaurants knew him by name and gave them great seats with spectacular views. They ordered the most delicious food, drank the finest wines, and then afterward, danced to jazz ensembles until midnight.

At the end of the evening, David was always a perfect gentleman. He was rather old fashioned when it came to dating. He picked her up at the door and returned her to said door, giving her heated and smoldering kisses that tasted far better than the food she'd consumed. Then he'd look at her, deep into her pale blue eyes with his omniscient gaze, and somehow see the truth she tried desperately to hide.

She was scared shitless to make love to him.

He wasn't angry at her. Instead, he was endearingly patient, never rushing her. He cupped her cheek, dropped another, lighter kiss on her lips, and would see himself off for the rest of the night. She knew he was as frustrated as she was, but he didn't seem angry at her at all. That didn't really matter; she was far more angry at herself.

She was a chicken. She hadn't had sex in ten years, hadn't _wanted_ to have sex in ten years. Sex with Paul hadn't been that good, and it certainly hadn't been fantastic. It wasn't something she had missed...but she was certainly missing it now.

As Erin was getting ready for their date later that evening, she knew there was more to the problem. She stepped out of the shower and began to dry herself off, and then glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She wasn't the cadet he'd first met years ago, young and full of passion. She had fire in her eyes, but now...it was different. She was mature, a mother with three adult children. She had a decent body—she could still pass the fitness tests at the FBI with flying colors—but she wasn't twenty or even thirty years old anymore.

To top that feeling off, David dated women of all ages. As a bestselling author with a thrilling mystique about him, women in their twenties and thirties threw themselves at him. She couldn't blame them. He was every bit as suave and handsome as his image, and his kindness—that unyielding compassion he kept hidden until one got to know him—made him even more irresistible. David's last girlfriend was thirty-six, and she hadn't been as young as any of the last three women he had dated.

Raising her arms over her head, she noticed that her breasts lifted just a tad. Maybe she should get a lift or something like that? Competing with women almost half her age was daunting for any woman, and even more so for someone like her—_Ice__ Queen __Strauss__—_someone whose ex had left her for a younger model.

Sighing, she reached for her bra and panties and began to dress. No matter what her thinking was, tonight was the night. She was done putting off the inevitable...and only hoped she could compete.

* * *

><p>Dave had been looking forward to this date for four days, the entire time he'd been on a case in Boise. He had plans tonight: dinner at <em>Chez Philippe<em>, a nouveau French Restaurant with a terrific violinist, maybe a little dancing, and a lot of loving. Far more than what he had been getting so far. He was going to woo Erin off her feet—literally and figuratively.

Dave knew this was going to take a lot more finesse than he'd ever had to use before. Erin was skittish around him, afraid when he pushed the envelope further than she anticipated. He smiled to himself. This proved only one thing to him: the woman was still a pain in his backside half the time...and he loved her for it.

When it came to Erin Strauss, his emotions were on overdrive. She challenged him like no other woman ever had. Beneath that cool exterior raged a fire that could melt steel, and he couldn't wait to see her burn.

Slapping on some aftershave, he began to check his tie, when his cell phone rang. He picked it up and answered without looking at the caller ID. "Rossi."

"Hi, David. I...I need to cancel this evening," Erin said, sounding overly congested. "I'm not feeling well."

Tamping down his disappointment, he said, "Poor baby. I'll come over. I got a great chicken soup my _Nonna_ Maria used to make...lots of garlic, clear you right up."

"_No_!" she said quickly, far too quickly for Dave's liking, and then began to cough. "I...don't want to give it to you."

"Erin..."

"I have to go," she said, and then the line went dead.

Dave stared at his reflection in the mirror and did not like what he saw. The man in the mirror knew the cool blonde he loved to butt heads with was trying to play him...

And then he smiled...

He was more than up for this game.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Thanks for the reviews; this is so fun!...Happy Birthday, Tracia! :)_

**Chapter 2**

Erin sat on her couch in her living room, sipping her second glass of chardonnay. She liked a good, fresh, very dry glass of white wine that was tangy on her taste buds. At least there was something likable in her condo; she, herself, didn't fall in that category.

She didn't like cowards.

She'd chickened out. Completely, totally, unforgivably chickened out. Like the very worst kind of coward, she'd turned tail and run from a challenge she'd thrown at herself. She'd never run from a challenge before in her life.

Not only that...she'd _lied_ to David. A man so perceptive, he could tell when politicians and actors—people paid to lie—were being untruthful. If he knew that, he'd certainly be able to tell one middle-aged woman who'd made a career on her integrity was lying.

She groaned and took another sip. It was her second glass after she had complained and hung up the phone on him. Usually, one glass had her feeling somewhat lazy and easy going, but tonight, she wasn't feeling any more mellow at all. Instead, she was edgy and upset, and she could barely taste her wine.

Huffing, she placed her glass on her coffee table and pressed her cool fingertips to her temples. Her head was pounding. She needed to relax, and the crisp taste of wine wasn't cutting it. Closing her eyes, she leaned back into the couch cushions and let her mind wander. Her lips curved into a smile as her daydream focused on one particular man...and thinking about his mouth, the sensitive spot by his ear he liked her to kiss, the feel of his rough stubble on her tongue as she licked his neck...

Her reverie was interrupted by a pounding on her door. Only one man knocked that assertively. She sat up. Her heart beat faster, and then immediately plummeted to her stomach. She paled; this wasn't good. She had dressed for dinner and was still in her outfit when she'd called him. At least she'd almost made it for their date this evening.

She had a feeling that _almost_ wasn't going to cut it.

"Hello?" she called out, running toward her bedroom for a quick change.

"Erin?" David's voice called out. "It's the chicken soup fairy, _cara mia_. Open the door."

Struggling to pull her control top panty hose down, she hopped on one foot, and then tripped over her slippers on the floor at the end of her bed. She toppled into the wall and let out an "Oof!"

"Erin?" He continued knocking...like an imbecile. Her neighbors were going to call the police.

"One second!" she called out, yanking the offending stockings off, and then reached for her robe. Yanking it up her arms, sequins flying, she took a look in the mirror. It didn't work; her dress showed underneath it.

"Do I need to call an ambulance, dearest?" Dave called out.

Erin paused in pulling her dress over her head. That _dearest_ didn't sound quite right to her. Still, she couldn't send him away now. "One minute!"

Shoving her arms into her robe, she quickly belted it, stuffed her feet into her slippers, and then ran to the door and yanked it open. "Hello," she said, trying for the stuffy nose sound.

As she looked at David, she noticed he wasn't smiling, he wasn't pleased, and he certainly wasn't carrying chicken soup. "Hello...Erin."

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Dave gave her a smirk and said, "I was worried about you. Thought I'd stop by and check up on you..." He paused and narrowed his eyes at her. "Since I have nothing _better_ to do tonight."

Erin stiffened at that. She shot him a haughty, icy look, and said, "Well, you've seen me. Now you can go."

"Not until I've made you soup," he ground out, barging into her condo.

She frowned. "Really, David, that's not necessary..."

"I would've made it at home," he called out, interrupting her as he walked into her kitchen, "but I was out of _chicken_." He turned and speared her with a look. "Know where I can find one of those?"

Erin felt her stomach fall, but she refused to show fear. She clutched her robe to her neck and said, "I don't have chicken."

He chuckled, but it wasn't a friendly sound. "Oh, I believe you have plenty of that type of fowl...and you know exactly what I am talking about."

She couldn't answer him; she didn't have anything she could say.

"Why would you do it?" he asked, taking a few steps closer to her. "I've been looking forward to this date for days—_days_, Erin—the one bright spot in my bleak week, and you cancel?"

"I was sick," she lied, glancing away from him, unable to meet his espresso brown eyes. "I didn't want you to become ill."

"Don't worry," he said nonchalantly, before he surprised her by seizing her upper arms and pulling her into his chest. "I'm ready to catch your cold."

Before she could protest, he lowered his mouth to hers and began to kiss her, a deep, dark, naughty kiss like only David Rossi could deliver. She held tight to him, clinging, as he plundered her mouth, conquered and captured any protesting she could think of saying.

All too soon, it was over. He raised his head and waited for her to open her eyes before he spoke. "You are as sick as I am, Erin...and I'm healthier than a teenager on the first day of summer vacation."

"David, I—"

She couldn't say a word; he was kissing her again, delving his tongue between her lips, gripping onto her ass through the thick terry of her robe. The shared heat between their mouths almost became too much, and Erin could feel herself falling, falling...

Before she hit ground, Dave scooped her up in his arms and brought her to the couch a few yards away. He lay her down, and then followed with his body partially covering hers. She was at an awkward angle, arching against him as he nuzzled her neck and gripped her hip in his strong, tanned hand. The delectable feel of his body against hers, the heavenly weight of a man on top of her, was so delicious, tantalizingly new, and yet...and yet...familiar.

That familiar feeling caused her to freeze. Fear and the wash of memories from her past failures became vivid in Erin's mind. She tried to ignore it, but she couldn't help it, couldn't keep the thoughts that she wouldn't be enough, that she _wasn't_ enough, out of her mind.

She squeezed her eyes shut to fight back tears and began to kiss him back even more vigorously, at the same time sucking her breath in and raising her arms so that at least her breasts would look perky and—

Dave pulled back somewhat and was looking at her with a curious expression. "Erin...what are you doing?"


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews! I know I am running behind in updating, so my apologies...On to the story..._

**Chapter 3**

Dave could feel it. He could feel the moment the momentum shifted from favoring passion, and then completely away to some sort of regret she was feeling. She'd been responding—Sweet Lord, she was responding—and then it stopped. He could practically taste it in her kiss and visibly watch her passion slip out of his hands. He'd been so drawn into the moment, he was caught off guard...and he nearly panicked.

After nearly forty years of seducing women—many, _many_ satisfied women—that wasn't acceptable.

The rational part of him knew that a discussion was needed. He needed to know why she would throw away what was so obviously good between them, and clam up like a suspect under intense questioning. After all, they were adults, both of them, and professional. They could talk about this.

Yet the other, equally important part of him that was primitive male wanted to know what the hell just went wrong.

Choosing a compromise, he simply asked straight out, "Erin...what are you doing?"

And then, as he watched her, he saw her retreat even more and freeze, like she did on the steps when they'd kiss goodbye. He could see it in her face, see her withdrawing, see her questioning, along with wanting.

Written plainly on her face was the truth right now—her self doubt was stronger than the wanting.

Dave was a patient man, but this would even try a saint, and Dave was definitely _not_ a saint. He needed to do something, but he was at a complete loss. He couldn't kiss her out of it; that lack of confidence in her sexuality was too ingrained after twenty years. He knew Erin's past experience with that prick Paul had made her who she had been—the ice queen with the stick up her ass—but she wasn't that woman anymore. Her time with his team had changed her for the better, had loosened her up, and made her a different woman. Couldn't she see that?

The more Dave thought about it, though, the more he realized there were many things she didn't really need to change. Her determination, her strength, her unfailing tenacity, and her strict moral code had been things he'd respected about her and remained the same. Dave couldn't help but smile to himself; she was a woman who wore control well.

Suddenly, it hit him, like a bolt of lightening. In profiling Erin, he figured a way out of this dilemma.

"Erin...sweetheart," he began gently. He rolled off of her and sat down. "I think I know what is wrong."

If anything, she stiffened more. She hauled herself to an upright position and sat ramrod straight, her chin raised like she'd done a million times facing him down. "You do."

He faced her, but she was still looking away. "I think you're beautiful, Erin." When she turned to look at him, surprise on her face, he added, "I always have, I always will."

She snorted and looked away. "Don't lie to me, David. You hated me."

"I won't deny that," he answered honestly. "But even when I hated you, I thought you were beautiful."

He reached for her chin, forced her to look at him, holding her gaze in his. She closed her eyes, but he ordered, "Look at me, Erin." He could see the storms in her cloudy blue eyes, fear and want warring for dominance. "You are not going to let me down. You're what I want, what I _need_...right here. Right now."

She looked surprised, but only for a second. A moment later, she choked out, "I'm scared, David. It's been...it's been..."

"It's been far too long that I've wanted you," he interrupted, knowing exactly what she was going to say. What she was about to say about her past was insignificant tonight—This was about them—and would remain insignificant. "This is going to be good, baby."

"Really," she said flatly, looking away.

"No, scratch that," he said, drawing her attention again. "It's going to be _awesome_."

"How do you know?" she asked. He could tell she'd been trying for a mocking tone, but she ended up sounding wistful instead to his ears.

He chuckled softly and said, "I know."

"How?"

"Trust me..."

Before she could say another word, Dave reached for her and pulled her onto his lap. She was sitting so primly, so starched and straight laced, like she was on a high back chair, addressing the queen. Only Erin could sit on a lap that way, and it was adorable to him.

"David..."

"Shhh," he said, bringing his fingers up to her mouth. "I have a plan."

* * *

><p>Awkwardly, Erin sat on David's lap, his long, rough fingers pressed against her lips. He had a plan, did he? How was this plan going to alleviate <em>years<em> of justifiable fears for her? How did he know this was going to be good?

Good. That was laughable. Paul would've said another thing. Her husband had left her for another woman, and had thrown in her face that she'd been frigid.

"_Always an ice queen, Erin. At work, at home, in bed...always."_

When he removed his fingertips, she immediately asked, "What is your plan?"

"My plan is that tonight," he said, adjusting his seat and moving himself back against the couch, jostling her on his lap so that she fell towards him. "You are completely in control."

Her eyes widened. "Me?"

This was not good. She'd never taken control in the bedroom. Why would she want to? That was not some place she had expertise. He had all the ability to charm, soothe, and cajole her into bed, why put her in charge?

"Yes, you, _cara_. We are only going to do what you want, when you want it. If it works, we'll keep doing it. If it turns you off, we'll stop." He shrugged, a devilish smile on his swarthy face, and then crossed his arms behind his neck. "I am a passive observer."

She could feel herself frowning, and began trying to sit up. "This is ridiculous. You have far more experience with this sort of thing than I do, and-"

"Scared, Erin?" he asked, his brow shooting up, adding an exclamation mark to the question. "Are you going to _chicken _out?"

The teasing tone of voice he'd used, along with that smirk on his face, made her want to sock him...and then kiss him. He'd always been that way to her. Irritating, frustrating, infuriating...and fabulous.

"Fine," she said, pinched lipped, ready to do battle. "You asked for it..."

"Oh, yes, I did..." he whispered, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned back towards him.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Thank you for the reviews...on with the show..._

**Chapter 4**

She could do this. She could seduce David Rossi and not freeze with every ghost of the past. With every last ounce of courage, Erin closed her eyes, reached for his shoulders, leaned forward, and pressed her lips to his.

His answering peck was not what she expected.

She opened her eyes and leaned back to meet his lazy, coffee dark eyes.

"Come on, Strauss. You can do better than that," he said, the challenge in his voice obvious.

Throwing the gauntlet back at him, she arched her body against his this time, slow and sensuous. She brushed her breasts against his chest, feeling and ignoring the beginning tingles she could feel there, and looped her arms around his neck.

Her heart was pounding hard and her breath was coming faster as she kissed the side of his jaw, the smooth, freshly shaved skin near the edge of his beard. She nipped and nibbled, the occasional brush of his goatee tickling her nose, her upper lip.

In an attempt regain her balance, she took a deep and was immediately greeted with his spicy scent. No one smelled like David; a rich cologne made for him, along with clean skin, a hint of leather from his jacket, and something purely male that made a shiver run down her spine.

Lord, their lips hadn't even connected, she thought with dismay, and she felt passion sluicing in her veins. She was warm and dizzy with desire. Her tingling nipples grew harder, and she pressed herself against his chest, before bringing her mouth to his.

That thundering passion that had always been between them exploded like wildfire on a dry prairie. Erin slid her tongue past the barrier of his teeth, stroking against his tongue, before he returned strokes, velvety and tender.

David's hands had been resting on her waist, occasionally brushing up her back in a soft and sweet massage. Now, they were gripping her, clinging onto her, digging just slightly into her soft muscles. He pressed her forward against him, silently urging her to continue. Erin hadn't needed any encouragement; she was glorying in this kiss that could go on and on forever.

Deep down inside her body, she felt as if she were melting. Feelings that had been long suppressed were coming alive. Now she felt as if she were on fire, burning with molten heat. The thick lava flowing in her body crept into her bones, and she felt languid, relaxed, easy. Two glasses of wine hadn't made her this mellow, but one dosage of David Rossi had done the trick.

She shifted just slightly, and felt the heat and hardness of David's erection pressing against her. He moaned deep in his chest at the gentle friction, and a surge of womanly triumph heated her blood even more. He'd said she was beautiful; now she knew he truly desired her, too. The knowledge in itself was heady.

Any amount of superiority she might have felt was undermined a moment later, when David slid a hand under the edge of her robe to cup her breast. It was her turn to moan, sucking in her breath when he flicked his thumb over the lace of her bra. There was no ice water, no sinking fear, only pure, unadulterated feeling as she melted even more onto his lap.

Her head fell back as he began to knead her breast, slowly drawing her diamond hard nipple between his fingers in a methodical, squeezing motion. She felt like her breasts were swelling, aching, dying for more of his contact. At the same time, he kissed the side of her exposed neck, her jaw, whatever he could reach.

When he reached her ear, he whispered, "Erin...baby...you're supposed to be in control...not me."

She opened her eyes and saw his teasing grin, along with no small amount of passion in his nearly obsidian eyes. She hadn't even noticed that she now lay splayed on his lap, cradled in his arms. She smiled back, and placed her hand on his, stilling his movements, and then she stood on her somewhat shaky legs.

His teasing, yet arrogant smile was well deserved...but she couldn't let that last for long.

"Control, hmmm?" she whispered, summoning her strength and what was woman in her, and then undid her robe and dropped it in front of him. "What did that do to _your _control, David?"

* * *

><p>Dave knew his wicked smile told her everything she'd asked, but he still said, "Come, <em>dolcezza<em>...sit on my lap and find out."

To emphasize, he patted his knee unnecessarily.

Erin gave a rather uncharacteristic giggle, and went to sit back in her spot, but Dave reached for her waist and halted her. With a firm movement, he turned her to face him and guided her to straddle his thighs.

Frantically, their mouths met again, each moment driving the heat inside them higher and higher, until Dave broke his mouth away. It was time for him to take a little more control back from his hot and sweet woman. His patience was nearing an end. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't get laid as often as was rumored, and he needed more to keep him grounded.

He reached for the rear closure of her bra, released it, and freed her breasts. He stared for a moment, looking at their beauty. Her breasts were not overtly large; a little more than a handful, with creamy skin and delicious pale pinkish brown nipples that made him salivate. He was hungry, and he needed a taste of her, now.

Dipping his head, he felt her silky soft skin caress his cheek before he suckled her nipple into the interior of his mouth. Her cry of pleasure, the rock of her hips against his erection, and the squeezing of her thighs told him she was receiving almost as much pleasure as he was. Circling her nipple with his tongue, he released it with a soft sound from breaking suction, and then pleasured the other breast.

Erin had thrust her fingers in his thick hair, gripping tightly as he loved her breasts. She was moaning, shivering like she were cold, and yet her body felt scalding hot to him. She was beautifully responsive; he could smell her essence, the warm, intoxicating scent of willing and wanting female overtaking his senses.

At the same time, his erection was finding a life of it's own, pulsing and begging for completion. He could barely control himself. What began as a teasing foray into her controlling world showed him the truth; she had the power. It was like he was a fifteen year old virgin again; it was humbling how much he wanted this woman.

He cupped his hands on her breasts, buried his face in the sweet scented valley in between. He kissed each sweet swell, rested his face against her breastbone, and whispered hoarsely, "Erin...I have to have you. I-"

And then she said the sweetest words he'd ever heard.

"Make love to me, David."


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: As always, thanks for the reviews. Love, Kricket_

**Chapter 5**

**Warning: Strong Sexual Content **

Between hot and heavy kisses, kisses that melted her bones and made her dizzy, he murmured, "Bedroom, Erin..."

Was he crazy? She didn't want to talk, she wanted to keep kissing him. She was ready to claim him, claim what she wanted now. His look of need, of dark and heated want, gave her power and made her feel like the sexiest woman alive. Any thoughts of stopping was purely inconceivable. With that in mind, she captured his mouth, kissing him deeply, like the conquering Valkyrie that she was.

"Erin...sweetheart..." He groaned and chuckled slightly against her mouth, and then set her away from him completely.

Immediately, she moved back to where she had been. "Shhh," she whispered, and resumed kissing him for all that she was worth.

"Baby," he chuckled, "if we don't get in your room, I'm going to spend right here, and I sure as hell do not want that."

To add fuel to her fire, to that feeling of being a siren, he dropped his gaze to her breasts, and she could feel the pulse of his erection against her thighs. She smiled at him wickedly, feeling positively wanton, deliciously decadent, wearing just her panties on his lap.

"Poor, poor David," she cajoled with a purr...probably for the first time in her life, come to think of it. She couldn't remember ever having purred before. "Are you conceding defeat?"

"It's not time to smile yet, _cara_," he said, with a challenging grin of his own. He lifted her off his lap and then stood. "This is far from over."

"Really?" she teased, reaching for his outstretched hand.

"Oh, yeah." Dave took her hand and pulled her quickly into his arms, plastering her against his body. "This battle has just begun."

They kissed the entire way down the hall, stumbling over a few items but not bothering to stop. Erin couldn't suppress a laugh, which was another oddity for her. Sex had never been something that was fun, and it certainly hadn't been a game for her. Only David would make her feel so happy, like she needed to fight, only to surrender to pleasure over and over again.

Stepping over her sparkling dress that still lay on the floor of her bedroom, he glanced down and gave her a half smile, along with a look.

"I know," she murmured, yielding defeat for that. He could win _some_ points, after all. "What was I thinking?"

Dave grinned at her, and said, "Damned if I know."

She only had a second to giggle, before he kissed her again. She answered him with eager enthusiasm, every ardent brush of her tongue, every sigh captured by his mouth. It was a tug of war, the best give and take, and it was perfection.

As Dave dropped his mouth to kiss the side of her bare neck, she loosened his silk tie, started on the buttons of his shirt. He was far too dressed for her; she wanted to see his swarthy skin, the battle scars he had from his years of law enforcement. He would be the opposite of Paul, she knew it. Paul had never had a single wound, had never really lived life.

Rossi...he didn't just _live_ life; he _directed_ it.

Opening his shirt, she buried her fingers in the soft, slightly wiry mat of curled hair on his chest. He was fit, strong but not overtly sculpted like some men. Then again, she wasn't looking for a man with a six pack and muscles straining from his body. He had a realness, a worn beauty that tugged at her insides and made her want to devour him.

As she looked into his dark eyes teaming with want, she realized that perhaps he was more like her. Perhaps he wasn't looking for model perfection, either.

When she brought her eyes back to his, he was smiling at her with gentle approval. He cupped her face in his hand, and murmured, "My pretty Erin..."

The tenderness of the moment made her breath catch in her throat, and when he kissed her again, it was gentle, romantic, soft. It stirred her soul even more than the earlier, heated kisses had, and she hadn't thought that was possible.

Dave swept her up in his arms, and then lay her down on the bed, before shrugging off his shirt. As she watched him, propped on the pillows, she felt like Delilah, desirable and wanted. He undid his pants, and removed them, along with the boxers he was wearing.

She had been languidly watching him, but now her eyes were opened wider, staring at him. A moment later, Dave watched as she puckered her lips and looked up at him.

"You were right," she said, and before he could say anything else, she added, "It _is_ impressive."

Dave couldn't stop the grin that split his face, as he leaned over her. "Just you wait, _dolce_...just you wait.."

He kissed her then, sliding into bed with her, partially on top of her. _Dolce_ was a perfect nickname for her, he thought. She was so sweet, like candy and white wine. He was certain that every part of her was delicious, tasty and infinitely edible. Proving his point, he licked the tip of a pouting breast, loving how she clutched his head and arched into his caresses.

Planning to play all day, he circled the tip with his tongue, her flesh feeling cool and refreshing against his heated tongue, before he sucked her nipple into his mouth. Erin moaned and writhed underneath him, straining against him. The friction against his cock reminded him of how close he was to the edge of his control, how badly he wanted to be inside her. This was not going to be anywhere near as leisurely as he had hoped for.

Sliding his hand between their bodies, he slipped beneath her panties and found her curls. She was wet and hot, and so ready for him. He couldn't curb a shudder that passed through him as he probed her wetness with his finger. He could feel her tightness, the pulse of liquid heat flowing through her body. She was near the end of her control, too.

Dave slid her panties off and rose above her. As he balanced above her, she reached between them and gripped his length. Groaning, he closed his eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of reason, but then she positioned him, the wetness of her body washing over the head of his erection.

"Oh, Erin," he growled, as he began to sink slowly, so slowly, into her snug channel. She was everything he'd ever wanted, all that he'd ever need, and it was a fantastic realization.

She wriggled beneath him, raising her legs to wrap around his thighs, arching her hips to draw him deeper, and then let out a sigh of pleasure that rang in his ears and touched his soul.

"Sweet, sweet Erin," he murmured, holding himself still inside her, letting his body acclimate to the velvet softness gripping him like a glove.

"David," she whispered, reaching her hands grip his slick back, running them down to his waist, his hips. "Please...oh, David.."

He continued to hold back, slow and steady strokes. He was the master, in charge...until she reached up and nipped at his shoulder.

That was it for his legendary control.

Dropping his mouth to capture hers, he began to pump inside her frantically, hot, heavy slides into her wet body. It was glorious, it was mind-blowing, and it was the closest to heaven that he'd ever get.

He surged into her, over and over, drawing breathless cries from her. Then Erin reached her hands to his buttocks and squeezed, causing his thrusts to become harder, faster. He could feel his orgasm approaching, the soles of his feet and his lower back tingling in anticipation.

She cried out, her body breaking into spasms around him. Dave pushed into her one more time with driving force, and called out wordlessly as he exploded, flying to heaven, and beyond.


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Again, thank you so much for reading and reviewing this story. I know this is not my usual pairing, but they are fun to write...Next story coming up very soon!..._

**Chapter 6- Epilogue**

_Three months later..._

"That one!" Erin said excitedly, looking at the display case. "That's it."

Dave stared at it and pulled a face, twisting his lips to the side. "Hmmm...nah. Too small."

"It's beautiful," she replied adamantly. "It has the perfect shine and looks gorgeous."

Dave chuckled, and then kissed her soundly, before announcing, "We'll take that loaf."

The clerk at _Pan de Vida_, the Italian bakery in downtown DC, reached for the loaf. He smiled and asked, "Sliced?"

Quirking a brow, he said, "You have to ask, don't you, Mike?"

"Sure do, Mr. Rossi," he answered, but didn't wait for a reply. He began wrapping the bread in a protective plastic bag.

This was a typical Saturday day trip for Erin and Dave. For the past few months, he'd taken her to quaint little delicatessens that Dave said had reminded him of his hometown. Of course, they weren't quite as authentic as the real thing: "Nothing is quite like _Papa Lou's_ back in Long Island...but they're still good."

Afterward, he'd take her back to his place where they'd cook their purchases together, drinking lambrusco or chianti. They'd eat their terrific meal, and laugh the whole time, talking about the old days and the new days yet to come. And then, when they were feeling relaxed and cozy, they'd make love.

Life had never been better for her.

"Well, we have the bread, so that's the final shop," she said as they exited the bakery, the tinkling bells on the door sounding after them. She turned to him. "Ready to go home?"

He gave her a devilishly handsome grin and reached for her hand. "One more shop today, _dolce_."

Erin's feet were aching, and she was hungry. All the fresh food, the parmigiano reggiano from the cheesemonger, the sliced prosciutto from the butcher, and now the warm bread,was making her mouth water. "David..." she complained.

"Come on," he urged, dragging her along.

A moment later, they stopped before a shop Erin hadn't expected at all. "Oh, David," she whispered, a touch of apprehension and a lot of excitement building in her heart, budding like a rose taking bloom.

He had already placed the bag down on the ground, and was folding her into his arms, her back to his front. "Just say the word, _cara mia_..."

"It's rather sudden," she answered, tingling as he moved the fall of her ash blonde hair and kissed her nape.

"Not for me," he replied quickly, and then turned her in his arms. "Baby, I've already done this three times. I'd like to do it once more and make it last."

"For how long?" she teased.

"Forever." His tone was teasing, but the warmth in his cafe brown eyes told her this was no joke. He looked as hopeful, and as nervous, as she felt.

She looped her arms around his neck,and kissed him lightly, before warning, "You better. I'm no one to be trifled with, David."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a wink, and then kissed her back. He reached for the bag, and then opened the shop door, and gestured to the entrance. "Shall we?"

She looped her arm in his, and stepped forward into the shop.


End file.
